Miscommunications
by eleven19
Summary: Tumblr one-shot: Person A (Emma) thinks Person B (Neal) is breaking up with them when they're really proposing. I'm thinking about doing a bunch of Tumblr one-shot prompts with multiple couples, so feel free to send me a pairing and prompt-except CS or SQ (I'm sorry, SQ, but I've tried and I just don't know how to write you. And CS...we all know my feelings on CS).


"Okay, so…" Neal drew out a long breath. "We gotta talk."

Her stomach dropped. "Talk?" she repeated, her voice a little higher than usual. "Wh-what, uh…what do we need to talk about?"

"I…" Neal sighed and closed his fingers around his coffee cup, examining it with a slight frown. His thumb tapped out a rhythm against the cardboard sleeve: a nervous gesture. Emma bit her lip, forcing herself to remain calm, even as her mind conjured the worst-case scenarios and convinced her they were an impending reality.

 _Emma, I think we should break up._

 _Also, I've been cheating on you._

 _My family has been plotting to kill your family. While I've been cheating on you._

 _With your brother._

 _By the way….you have a brother._

 _You never met him because my family intercepted him and killed him before you had a chance to meet him._

 _Actually, I killed him. Right after I cheated on you with him._

 _And your pasta sucks. Girl, you couldn't boil water without fucking it up!_

Why Neal had suddenly turned into Titus Burgess, she didn't know, but she _did_ know that something bad was coming. No one looked like that when they were delivering _good_ news.

"You…?" she prodded, trying to keep her voice light. She bumped his elbow, forcing a smile. "Come on, Neal, just tell me." _You rat bastard. How could you break my heart like this?!_ "It's okay." _I'll never forgive you, you son of a bitch! I hate you!_ "You can tell me anything." _Oh, God, please don't leave me! I love you!_

 _"_ I know, I know, it's just…" Neal exhaled shakily, and broke a quivering smile. "God, this is a lot harder than I thought."

 _You bet your ass, it is,_ she thought darkly. It better be hard, breaking off a three-year relationship like this. A relationship that had been tested to the limits time after time, growing stronger with every disaster; solidifying trust and love every day, even if it was just in the little kiss she pressed to his forehead before she left for work or the way he held her when she found out she was adopted and her real parents hadn't wanted her. Even if it was just in the way he purposely messed up her hair; or how she'd taken over when his dad was in the hospital because he couldn't even handle listening to the doctor's instructions. Even if it was just in the way they fell asleep on the couch with their socked feet intertwined and propped on the coffee table; or the way he was her date to Ruby's wedding, and got all dressed up in a very un-Neal-like suit with an extremely Neal-like smirk, and pretended to hit on her and asked her to dance and acted like she was that random stranger you fall in love with, even though you know you're never going to see them again.

 _Fuck,_ she thought, sniffling as tears threatened the edges of her eyes. _I made myself cry._

"You okay, Em?" Neal asked, suddenly concerned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, " she said, waving him away. "I'm fine, don't worry about it."

"You're crying."

"No, I'm not." Emma closed her eyes, forcing the tears back, and swallowed against the sob building in her throat. "I'm fine. Really."

Neal was quiet for a minute. "You sure you're okay?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Then….you maybe want to open your eyes for a minute?"

Emma frowned slightly and cracked her eyes open. "What the fu…?" She blinked, staring confusedly at the open ring box in his hand: the little diamond winked at her— almost cheekily, it seemed. She frowned and pinched the ring between her fingers, holding it up for examination. "What the fuck is this?"

"You're such a romantic," Neal grinned. "Here—" he plucked the ring from her fingers. "I think I'm supposed to be holding it while I do this."

"Do what?" Emma said bewilderedly. "Neal, seriously, what the fuck is going on?"

"Emma Sw—you know what? I'm not going to kneel. This street is filthy, and these are new pants." He gave his head a little shake, and started over, holding the ring out. "Emma Swan…"

Emma blinked at him with wide eyes. "Yeah?"

"Em—"

"Neal."

"Emma—"

"NEAL."

" _What?_ "

"What are you doing?" she whispered.

Neal raised his eyebrows. "What's it look like?" he whispered back. "Trying to propose here, Em—quit stealing my thunder."

"You're doing _what_ now?"

"Emma Swan," he repeated, raising his voice. "I don't have a speech." He fell silent.

Emma knit her brow, moving her eyes from side to side as she waited for him to speak. "Neal?"

"Hang on, I'm thinking," he frowned, holding up his free hand. "This is harder than it looks."

"But—"

"Em. Thunder. You're stealing it."

"Are you really proposing?" she blurted.

Neal looked at her in surprise. "Am I really—?" He fumbled, nearly dropping the ring, but caught it between his hands. He looked back up, a worried expression in his eyes. "What do you mean? What else would I be doing?"

"I thought…" Emma bit her lip. "I thought you were breaking up with me."

"Breaking up with you?" he repeated, his eyes widening. "Why would I break up with you?"

"Because you're sleeping with my brother!" she choked.

"Em…You don't _have_ a brother."

"I know!"

"Then what are you…?" Neal stared at her, shaking his head slightly. "I'm confused."

"So am I!" she said, tears spilling freely from her eyes now. "Goddamn it, Neal! You say, 'We gotta talk', you make it sound like you're going to break my heart and leave me in the dust, and then you pull a stunt like this? I mean—what's your _deal,_ man?"

"I don't have a deal, I just—" He mouthed in disbelief, looking around himself as if for answers. "I was nervous, I didn't realize I was coming off as… _breaky-uppy._ "

"Well, you did," Emma sniffed, folding her arms. "So, I'm not going to marry you."

"Oh, you're not going to marry me now?"

"No." She stubbornly set her jaw, leaning back against the bench. "Not gonna do it."

"Em…"

"Nope."

"Come on."

"I will _not_ come on."

Neal let out a slow breath, and settled back against the bench beside her. "Please?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm very cross with you right now."

"Okay."

They sat in silence for a few minutes: Emma glaring into the night, Neal twiddling his thumbs beside her.

"You want to marry me yet?"

"No."

"All right."

Another few minutes of silence. Emma fought to keep the glare on her face, even though her muscles were starting to ache and Neal wasn't even looking at this point. He half-sang, half-muttered a song under his breath, glancing around the city with mild interest.

"I…" Emma grimaced, and muttered grudgingly, "I might marry you, if you ask me nicely."

"If I ask nicely?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"Okay." Neal shifted in his seat, and coughed into his fist to clear his throat. He looked up calmly, with a pleasant, businesslike smile on his face. "Emma Swan. Will you please, please, please marry me? Thank you for your consideration." To punctuate, he held up the ring.

Emma lifted her chin thoughtfully. "All right, then."

The smile dropped. "All right?"

"Yes," she clarified.

"Yes? You mean—?" He stared at her, eyes wide with shock. "Wait, seriously?"

"I said, ' _yes',_ didn't I?" she shrugged. She held out her hand, wiggling her fourth finger. "Come on, put it on me."

"Uh…." Neal gave his head a dizzy little shake, and clumsily took her hand. "Right. Yeah. Here…"

With trembling hands, he pushed the ring onto her finger, breaking into a breathless smile as he did so. "Okay," he said. "There's, uh…there's your ring."

"Mm-hmm." Emma held out her hand, considering it carefully. _Remain calm. Remain calm. Remain—DUDE, I JUST GOT ENGAGED!_

 _"_ DUDE, WE JUST GOT ENGAGED!" she shouted.

"I KNOW!"

" _WE JUST GOT ENGAGED!"_

 _"I KNOW!"_

Emma let out a disbelieving shriek of laughter, and immediately covered her hands over her mouth, peeking over them at Neal: he was grinning a face-splitting grin, his front teeth pressed into his lip—apparently trying to choke back a few shrieks himself.

"So, we're—" Her voice rippled with suppressed laughter—"we're really doing this?"

"Yeah." Neal closed his hand around hers, and lifted an eyebrow. "I can't believe you thought I was going to break up with you."

"You were acting weird."

"I know, but—" he twitched a frown. "Come on, Em. You know I love you."

"Yeah, I know," she said with half a smile. "But you know that I'm paranoid."

"I know." Without letting go of her hand, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, resting his chin on the top of her head. "Still," he murmured. "You'd have to be really fucking crazy to think I'd break up with you."

"I _am_ really fucking crazy," she reminded him. "Still want to marry me?"

"So long as you're okay with marrying a guy who's okay with marrying a crazy girl."

"You're right," she realized. "You're totally down for marrying a paranoid weirdo like me. What does that say about you?"

"Good point. We should probably put off kids for a few years, or we're going to have an entire mental ward on our hands."

"A mental ward? Exactly how many kids are you picturing here?"

"Okay, maybe not a _full_ mental ward…"


End file.
